Heather and Ariel
by justincbenedict
Summary: Heather's boyfriend said he would die without her, but that turned out not to be true...but who can Heather tell? Only one person can see her now...


Heather followed Matthew through the halls of his new high school. God, Matt was still so beautiful. Look at him, flirting with that trashy girl by the bulletin board. Heather came up very close, wrinkling her nose at the trashy girl's top that was so obviously Kmart, if not Salvation Army. Heather moved right in between them, Matthew and the skeez. After all it didn't matter…wasn't like they'd notice her, right?

As Matthew talked to the skank with the strawberry blonde processed curls, (and OBVIOUS fire-engine red lip gloss) Heather actually leaned her head on Matthew's shoulder. "Having fun with Matty, tramp? He'll let you down. You know, he sure let me down."

Of course Matthew and Strawberry Curls—who'd introduced herself as Shasta—were oblivious to Heather. Everyone was. She could dance in front of the urinals in the boy's bathroom, no one could—or would ever see her again.

Back in Ypsilanti, Heather had been popular, though. She'd been a Goth, but also a soccer star, and she'd worked on the art magazine and the yearbook. Heather and her friends did the craziest shit, spray-painting "Slut" on locker doors, that kinda stuff.

But then she'd met Matthew, a football player, an honor student, from the rich side of town. And he liked Heather, a lot, not like the other boys, who would use her and move on. They really thought they had something!

It was true—Matthew had impregnated one of the cheerleaders, or so it was said, and he wasn't in with the high achievers anymore…and he was known for breaking up with very insecure girls…but that was just crap, because when Matthew met Heather, it was true love, love like neither had ever experienced.

Even Heather's friends who warned that he—Matt—was a bit of a creep sometimes, that he bullied the retarded kids and felt up Sylvia's little sister from the junior high—they were just jealous. Matthew Aaron Neilson—what a beautiful name—Heather wrote it on her notebooks—was a sweet, wonderful guy.

Did he ever bring her home to his folks? No…but it was because they didn't understand Heather and Matthew. Only when they were away for the weekend, his parents, did Matt bring Heather into his parent's bed…and he had made her pay for a lot of dates, but Heather had a part-time job, and Matt couldn't work because he had to study, and most of his spending money went for hair products, and his hair looked AWESOME.

Love, that's what it was!

And then one day, Matt's dad got transferred to Bumfuck, Arizona, and Matt told Heather he couldn't live without her. "You're my reason for living, but I don't think we can run away, we're too young." And then he told her about the suicide pact that he'd seen on a true-crime show, and he'd shown Heather his Grandad's Luger from World War Two or Three or sometime back in the day.

At first Heather was thinking about her friends and family—but she had no family, really. Her dad was doin' life without parole and Heather herself lived in a foster home in the Craddock-ChildressMobile Home Village…and her foster mom was a wino.

And this beautiful, cute brilliant guy…couldn't live without her. And she couldn't live without him! Dead at fifteen…dying for love, like Romeo and whatsherface.

Heather told Matt that she was scared, that he'd have to shoot her, and then shoot himself, because she couldn't go through with it! And Matt sucked up all his courage and shot her. Twice!

And then, Heather's spirit rose from her slain body and watched incredulously as this DORK, this CHICKENSHIT, couldn't bear to shoot himself. Or turn himself in to the police. Nope, he ran out of Heather's trailer and threw the Luger into a manhole.

The papers didn't make much of it, all these trailer trash were breaking into each other's places and killing each other…there was a tiny funeral, and most of Heather's friends showed up…stoned.

And Heather found herself following Matthew around, sitting with his family at the dinner table, watching him shower—not that cute, he had zits all over his back—but she just couldn't um, float off to Heaven or the Bad Place…she just kept following him. And never being noticed, because after all, Heather wasn't really um, a physical being anymore.

Watching Matthew come on to slutty Shasta, just before the first bell rang, he acted like Heather never existed. Heather herself heard Matt tell his mom after the shooting that he'd really not known her that well. ASSHOLE! And here he was, coming on to poor Shasta.

Same old thing, Matt was a great student, he'd gone out for football in the new school, and Shasta, who was looking at him appreciatively like a nice pork chop—she was weak, jeans too tight, heavy eyeliner, probably on the Detention list quite a bit. And here Shasta was, falling for Superjock Matthew in a big way.

But Heather, who felt sorry for Shasta, didn't have any control over this. She'd sat in the back seat of Matt's Dad's Altima and watched Matt making out with a bleached blonde idiot in his church youth group just the night before…so he was playing the field.

And Matthew of course told the church group idiot, that he was a virgin (total lie) and that he wanted them to lose their virginity together. Heather had gotten the benefit of that little line as well…the girl was such an idiot, but so TRUSTING.

All Heather, Haunting Heather now, could do was watch the train as it was about to wreck…he'd rip these girls apart in one way or another.

Heather watched Matthew lightly put his hand on Shasta's arm as the bell rang, and they went off to class. Now Heather could just float around this boring high school, and wait for the creepy crawler to come out for lunch, and probably lead on some OTHER girl…just so…man.

"Hey!"

Heather turned around and a cute blonde girl was looking at her. Someone saw Heather! Invisible ghost that she was, this girl, who looked kind of classy, saw her. First time in fourteen months, wow.

"I'm Ariel Dubois. What's your name? Are you new around here?"

Heather tried to smile. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

Ariel had not considered spending her precious free period, when she'd planned to update her Myspace page, chatting with a spirit.

"God, I wish I had a cigarette." Heather was saying as they sat on the bleachers. "An American Spirit. I gave up clove cigarettes, though Matthew smokes Gitanes sometimes."

Heather giggled. "I know they're not good for me, but I'm gone anyway. It would be nice if I could smoke. I've been smoking since I was nine, but dead people can't smoke. I think it's a trip that you can see me, Ariel. Do you know how long it's been since I talked to someone who was alive?"

Heather laughed self consciously, and ran her finger over Ariel's Hello Kitty bag. "Sometimes I talk to other people who are gone. Dead, I mean. I talked to George Washington, once. He said he was, it might have been a line, but he had wooden dentures, and I could barely understand him. George Washington really dressed kind of gay, you know?"

Ariel was looking at Heather's hair and thinking that this was the trend that Bridgette was going through—she wanted to put a red streak in her hair, and Dad said she could if she made the Honor roll. But the whole Goth thing—one red streak would really be bubble gum Goth though, not like this girl—this ghost.

Talking to spirits, though—it happened to her a lot these days, here and there. Ariel and her sisters got it a lot, and of course Mom, too. Marie just reported talking to a little boy in her kindergarten class who'd been run over the year before in pre-school. "Craig doesn't unnerstan' why no one chooses him to play Duck, Duck Goose no more" the cherubic Marie had said plaintively, just the other night.

But Ariel knew that she wouldn't have walked away from Heather's problem. It wasn't what the women in her family did, right? She had to be there for this apparition, or whatever. And Boy Problems were old news to Ariel.

"Heather, about Matthew, I don't think there's much you can do." Ariel didn't want to talk to Heather much about general stuff. She just wanted to straighten Heather out, and go back to her (living) girlfriends, because Heather was, not to be a bitch, all that um, bright.

Ariel put her hand on—well sort of through—Heather's arm. Ariel hoped no one was watching her talk to blank space. All she needed on her transcript was a psych evaluation, right? Vassar would love that.

"But Matthew's just going to lead more girls on, and screw with their heads. Ariel, Matt's a waste of space, but in a way I guess I still love him." Heather rolled her pretty emerald eyes. God she wore a lot of black eye makeup, Ariel thought. Mom wouldn't let me leave the house that way. But of course now Heather can go where she likes.

A moment later, while Ariel blinked or something, Heather was gone. This didn't surprise Ariel much. Spirits came and went in her world. She'd been seeing them for a long time.

As Ariel crossed into the school building, on her way to Precalculus, she passed an old lady in a wheelchair sitting precariously near the stairs going up to Floor Six.

"Ma'am, you shouldn't be here." Ariel said. "We have an elevator for disabled and elderly, do you want—"

But the old lady smiled, and pointed to the wheels of the chair, which were actually hovering just above the stairs, about five inches. Oh, not again, Ariel thought. But still—

"Can I help you, ma'am?" Ariel Dubois, psychic Good Citizen.

"My grandson has transferred to this school. He was such a good boy when he was young." The old lady seemed as if she was going on a ramble. Blue hair is so gross, Ariel thought. When I'm old, I'm going to have a blue Mohawk, just to piss everyone off.

"I told Matty that when I died, I'd give him my late husband's red sports car. How we loved that car!"

Ariel, Girl Scout that she was, had to get to math class."Ma'am, I hope your grandson is great and do you want me to tell him to drive safely or something? I gotta go to class."

The old lady (her Brillo hair was trembling a little) waved a hanky at Ariel. "Oh, go on with you, dear. Get to your Arithmetic class…remember to carry the one when you add…"

"And borrow when I subtract." How does she know what class? But of course…Ariel watched the wheelchair ascend into the ceiling past the stairwell, the old lady waving, and dissolve.

I wonder if ghosts get Alzheimer's?

After school the next day, Ariel and Hannah were leaving the Kwik-Mart with their Diet Cokes when a hot red Miata pulled into the parking lot.

"Hey, you guys need a ride?"

Hannah, who was not as easy on the eyes as Ariel…still had an eye for the hotties. She saw the dark head coming out of the sports car and gasped.

"Hey, Matthew! Ariel, this is Matthew Dempsey! He's in my Comp class!"

Ariel had to admit, Matthew was beautiful. Like Mom's old pictures of Scott Baio, but smarter looking.

"Jump in, I'll take you home, or wherever!"

Ariel let Hannah who was drooling like a pig at the trough, get in the front seat with Matthew, and she sat in back, looking at his tufts of dark hair. He even had nice ears.

Yes, really, really cute. Suddenly Ariel felt a little crowded in the seat.

Next to her suddenly was Heather, and next to Heather was the old lady with the wheelchair, but the wheelchair was gone. Ariel didn't quite feel cramped, as the two ghosts didn't really take up space, but Jesus…They both smiled at Ariel conspiratorially.

"—And isn't Mrs. Iglehart a total spazz? She thinks she knows how to teach A.P. English." Hannah was going on in the front seat. "My cat knows more about gerunds than Mrs. I, you know?"

In the back seat, Heather turned to the old lady. "It's a real nice car, Mrs. Dempsey, you kept it well."

The old lady smiled at Heather. "Yes, yes it is a nice automobile. It was Ephraim's little splurge after we sold the Concordhouse."

"So Ariel" Matthew said, looking behind him with those gorgeous ice-blue eyes, "I think our gym class played yours in that absurd volleyball match. You spike well!"

Intellectually, Ariel knew that Matthew couldn't hear her seatmates babbling, but Wow.

"Uh, yeah, Matthew, that's probably right. I didn't do so well in that match, my hands were slippery."

"What a liar you are, Ariel!" Hannah said, laughing a little too loudly. Confidentially she said to Matthew, "Ariel is like the Venus Williams of our class. Since seventh grade, she—"

Heather looked at Mrs. Dempsey, and then nudged Ariel and smiled at the old lady. "Mrs. Dempsey—"

"Oh, you can call me Charlotte if you like, Heather. We spend quite a bit of time together now, dear."

"Okay, Charlotte. Why don't you tell Ariel here about Matthew and this fabulous car?"

"Well, I don't want to—all right. I did promise Matthew, just after my husband died, the Miata was quite new, and oh, Matthew, he was fourteen and so fond of the car. Sometimes Ephraim let Matthew drive it, illegally, in a parking lot near the foundry."

Matthew was singing an obscene song to Hannah, and Ariel was starting to feel really crowded.

"But about leaving Matthew the car, please Mrs. Dem-Charlotte. Tell Ariel. This is kind of important." Heather pleaded.

"If she doesn't want to tell it, don't worry" Ariel said

"What did you say, Ariel?" Matthew asked curiously.

"I was just trying to remember what I have to do for school tomorrow, that's all" Ariel said quickly. These people in the back seat should shut the eff up.

"Well, Heather, I did promise Matthew, after my husband passed that I would leave him the car in my will. I didn't know how long I had, but it might be ten years, of course, and I hinted that I might surprise him and just give it to him as a high school graduation present, and he—such a bright boy—he helped me put in the bequest anyway, and our family lawyer said that Matthew had quite the promising future."

Heather now prompted Charlotte."But Matthew was kind of impatient, right? He really liked the car."

Hannah was giggling loudly in the front seat. "Stop tickling me Matthew, you're touching my boob! And you shouldn't drive with one hand."Hannah was having a grand time. It must be nice not to see dead people, Ariel thought glumly.

"See, I got to second base and drive with three fingers. It's awesome." Matthew grinned.

"Tell Ariel the rest, about the cocoa—" Heather was nudging the old lady.

Matthew looked behind him and gave Ariel a kind of "Hannah is nice but I like you a lot" wink…Ariel didn't get a psychic feeling, but just a nice butterfly in her stomach.

Heather laughed. "See, he's getting to you. But you should listen to Mrs. Dempsey—"

"You know, I'm two blocks from that corner up there." Ariel said suddenly. "Why don't you let me out here, Matthew. I kind of want to walk a little, to get in shape for the next volleyball match." Ariel laughed self consciously. She did look cute in her gym shorts.

Ariel looked over at the two ghouls, who were looking back reproachfully.

Matthew pulled up. "Sure. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow. We can play Tettrus on my Game-Boy or something."

"Matthew's just full of fun." Heather said, and Ariel jumped out of the car quickly.

Matthew's tongue was in Ariel's mouth. He played it behind her teeth, and she giggled from the tickling he gave the roof of her mouth. What a long tongue that boy has, Ariel thought.

As they rolled on the divan couch, Ariel put her arms around Matthew's neck. Matt was so much bigger and stronger—but in a gentle way—than all the different guys Ariel had dated over the past couple years.

Shit, Ariel had even gone out with a U of A sophomore once, and THAT guy, twenty years old, wasn't as built as Matthew, and he'd kissed like a epileptic lizard, comparatively.

No wonder Heather was still following the guy around. But maybe it wasn't his fault—Matt made a bad decision, and Heather died. But everyone deserves a second chance. And he's such a KISSER.

Matt kissed Ariel's nose, and then Ariel pulled him close, kissing him passionately on the lips, absently pushing Matt's hand down from where it was traveling up her cardigan to the boob area…but he kept tickling her and moving his hand again…bad boy.

He had such big hands, Matthew. Maybe she should—no not yet.

"Not so fast" Ariel mumbled, talking through Matthew's gorgeous lips. Matthew had given Ariel a light green pill with the letters "OC"on it. She'd taken it orally, as normal people should, and she'd watched, laughing as he'd ground his up and snorted it on his mom's hand mirror.

Then he'd given Ariel a big glass of Long Island Iced Tea (Ariel had no idea they now sold it in quart jugs) and then another "OC" pill, which she swallowed, though wondering for a moment what it would be like to take it nasally.

Matt had explained to Ariel that it hit the bloodstream faster that way…but he'd started out taking them by mouth, too. "That was like, seventh grade, a long time ago"

"You didn't get high in middle school did you?" Ariel had asked, laughing, but Matthew had just winked at her…he had long lashes, like a girl.

"I had a little arrest thing, and hadda take these piss tests." Matthew told Ariel. "So I gave this old dude outside the probation place money for his urine, right? And he said I was helping him feed his family, with the money, you know?"

"You are so awesome." Ariel had told Matthew, and he was!

Matt's parent's rec room was just beautifully finished, and they had a fifty-five inch wide screen HDTV. The monster screen glowed in the darkness, playing an Alanis Morrissette video… "So Pure" it was called.

Alanis was wearing a weird blond wig that made her look a little like Uncle Phil's old Marilyn Monroe poster. Why didn't Mom and Dad get a nice big screen like this one? Dad said he didn't want TV to overwhelm a room, but this was so classy!

Matthew ran his fingers up Ariel's belly again, and Ariel, who was almost crushed against him on the divan, used her left elbow to push his paw back just a little bit.

"I really, really like you, Ariel. I've never felt this way before. I just want to give you; you know—pleasure and stuff." Matthew reached up and toyed with one of Ariel's curly blonde lock.

If they had kids, it would be a mystery—dark like him or blonde like Ariel…they'd be so gorgeous.

"I like you a lot too. I'm just, it's like we've only known each other a little while." Ariel said. She felt especially bad as she'd told Mom that she was staying over at Hannah's, and Hannah, who would have beheaded Ariel if she'd known where Ariel was, thought Ariel was at a concert with a dork called John Stodadher.

Suddenly, there was a voice in the room, nearly startling Ariel.

"See, he's got the foreign thing going, Mrs. Dempsey. Roman hands and Russian fingers, you get it?"

"Heather, dear, that's an old one. But still a goodie."There was a pause. "I remember Matthew's legal problem. Once he asked his aunt Hattie for a urine sample because he was afraid of being sent to a reform school where he'd miss her…Hattie, bless her, found herself urinating into a tube…he has a silver tongue, Matthew does."

"Mrs. Dempsey, I think he's like the Devil Incarnate sometimes…but wait, didn't Hattie catch Matt stealing the Demerol for her broken hip? And she got pissed when Matt tried to frame her maid for missing jewelry, right?"

"Dear Heather, my sister Hattie is ever the optimist, and Matthew is such an engaging boy. We all thought he'd change. And he still might."

"I like, totally doubt it, Mrs. D."

"No, no…his grades are good-"

Can't they shut up? Ariel thought this vehemently. My date is like, RUINED. Am I supposed to reform the guy or something… Gossipy old—

No, just focus on Matthew, Ariel thought. She kissed him again, her full lips enveloping his. He is such a babe!

Ariel rubbed her fingers across Matthew's shoulder. His shoulders were broad, but not gross.

Matthew began unbuttoning Ariel's cardigan.

"I had no idea Matthew was such a forward young man. He certainly is getting fresh with her, isn't he, Heather."

Ariel's left eye looked past Matthew's bending form. There they were hovering over the wide-screen TV. Heather in a lotus position supported by thin are and the old bitch grandmother in the wheelchair beside her. Heather waved at Ariel impudently.

"I certainly hope they don't go all the way."

"Oh yeah, Mrs. Dempsey. Matt got me a week after we met."

"After only seven days of dating, Heather? Really."

"We didn't really date, we kind of hooked up. It was really random. At least he took Ariel out tonight, for fries…When Matt did me, he just at the popcorn that I made when we were together in my foster dad's trailer, and he took the popcorn when he left in the morning, to feed the birds or something."

"I had my first experience with a nice boy in 1965 after a Peter, Paul and Mary concert. It was three dollars a ticket. He paid. Hiram Reinecke, he was called. He became a lawyer up in Great Neck. I knew Hiram cared, because he bought the tickets."

"Yeah. That's beautiful. Boy Matt's really fed Ariel up with the Oxy there, Mrs. Dempsey. Canadajust sends them to anyone these days." Heather paused. "She is zonked, man."

"I warned my son and his wife that they didn't spend enough time with Matthew, you know. He was a troubled boy, and quite angry. That may have been why he put the Seconal in my coffee."

"Jesus, you died because of too many Seconals? I guess you have a weak heart."

"Ariel, are you okay?" Matt asked, concerned. "You seem a little distracted."

Ariel kissed Matthew so hard her teeth clashed with his. Liars! They're LYING.

"I fear Matthew may have hit my head a bit with my late husband's ball-peen hammer after I fell asleep. It's rather vague."

Of course this is bullshit, Ariel thought, as she giggled, feeling Matthew's tongue in her ear. There's no such thing as a ball-peen…it sounds like a porn movie thing.

Matthew had finished unbuttoning Ariel. She looked up into Matt's sleepy eyes. He kissed her more intensely, and his fingers found her right breast, moving the bra up a bit."

"Second base!" Heather shouted.

Ariel asked Matthew. "I don't mean to be personal—"

Matthew laughed, deep in his throat. "I think we're pretty good friends now, Ariel."

"How did your grandmother pass away?"

Matthew pushed back and looked at Ariel, with genuine surprise. He'd forgotten about her boobs, at least for a moment. "My grandmother?"

Heather screamed. "Answer her, asshole!"

Matt's eyes looked hurt. Oh, don't hate me, Ariel pleaded inwardly. You're such a cute boy. No one this cute could be so evil. Matthew Dempsey is proof of a positive higher power.

I-I thought you told me your grandmother—um, left you your car, but died suddenly?"

"No, my mother's mother is alive in TacomaWashington, and the other one died before I was born. I worked in a cancer ward as a volunteer with sick kids, and one of the parents was really nice and gave me this car, though I pay the insurance. I don't let Dad do it. I didn't want to take the car, but the lady insisted, because I played catch with her son, who had leukemia. Do you hate kids with leukemia, Ariel?" Matt was pushing away from Ariel and giving Ariel a You-Creep-Me-Out look.

"A deliberate falsehood." Mrs. Dempsey breathed, nudging Heather. "I can't believe—"

"Falsehood. Sounds like a town with pollution or something"Heather snickered.

Ariel tried to stroke Matt's arm. He looked like he was going to friggin' cry.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Matt. I didn't know—"

Matthew looked at Ariel and sat up. "You haven't even met my parents and you're asking about my grandmother?"

Ariel improvised quickly. "I think Hannah misunderstood something you said. She's probably trying to push us apart because she likes you…I like you more."

"See, Mrs. Dempsey, now Ariel is implicating homely Hannah, her so-called buddy so she can get laid with Matthew, an indirect murderer of two."

"Oh dear. Really, you should call me Charlotte, Heather."

"That is not going to happen, Mrs. D. But you are my best friend. Some friend Ariel's been."

Suddenly, at the end of the divan, a little girl of about four, just a little younger than Ariel's sister Marie appeared wearing a torn and bloodstained night shirt emblazoned with a figure of Disney's "The Little Mermaid".

Not only was Ariel startled, but she noticed that Mrs. Dempsey and Ariel were also somewhat jolted. This was a total surprise to everyone, the little girl's appearance, but of course Matthew, lucky Matthew, not a psychic, was oblivious as always.

The little girl pointed at Matthew. "That's the boy. Why did you hurt me, bad boy?"

Ariel pushed Matthew back for a moment. I am not babysitting tonight, she thought defiantly. "Do you have any more of those pills?"

Matthew gave Ariel another couple of Oxies, and more Long Island Iced tea. Then they smoked a joint, and Heather and Mrs. Dempsey and the little girl disappeared for the rest of the evening.


End file.
